No Dating in Heaven: Prologue
by Ende
Summary: Youji-centric. Read the story if you like him or angels.


No Dating in Heaven: Prologue  
  
Warnings: words of a sexual nature, profanity  
  
Pairings: none  
  
It's hard to be an angel. There's so much responsibility, and you have to tend to so many people's needs. Then there's the "no dating in heaven" policy. Yea know, sometimes I think that it might've just been better to go to hell. Have orgies all day long. Get drunk off your ass. Now that sounds like fun. But, no. I have to be stuck up here, in Heaven, where harps are playing day in and day out. Don't get me started with the wings and halo. It's all a way too fluffy.   
  
Of course, there are a few benefits. You get to sit around on a poofy cloud all day, which can be fun. Doesn't really please God when we race around on the balls of fluff, though.  
  
Anyway, this way of thinking is what probably got me kicked out of Heaven. Yes, believe it or not folks, I, Youji Koduo, got kicked out of Heaven. Surprised? Neither am I.   
  
Now, you may be thinking "But didn't he want to kicked out?" The answer: Hell, yea! Literally. I would've been happy to go to Hell and have hot, naked, naughty girls serve me cocktails all day and night. However, this did not happen. Quite the opposite, actually.  
  
I have been banished to Earth until I can regain my reputation in Heaven. I never realized that I actually had somewhat of a *good* reputation, but, apparently, I did. So, back to the good ol' life of working, sleeping, eating, getting laid, etc.  
  
It sounds good when I say it out loud, but it pretty much sucks. If I had gone to Hell, then I would have chicks lining up to do the nasty, but no. I'm stuck with three guys that I barely know, and have no desire to know.  
  
It gets worse. I have to work in a flower-shop. A friggin' flower-shop!! How gay can someone get. Lord, I wish that I just would've been bad enough to get sent to Hell in the first place. If only I hadn't done so many damn good deeds in my previous life.   
  
"Youji!" A deep voice said in anger.   
  
I glanced up at one of the three guys I work with. Apparently, he didn't like the idea of me taking a smoking break when I felt like it.  
  
"What's up, Aya?" I asked, putting my feet up on a chair beside him. This obviously did not help with his anger.  
  
"There are customers waiting," Aya grumbled, motioning to the line of girls standing at the counter.   
  
They looked happy enough to me just standing there. After all, it's not as if any of us guys were unattractive. No, we all had our good looks. Girls seemed to flock to the shop every day. That was the only perk of the job.  
  
"Don't you think they look happy, though? Just watching me sit here and be sexy?"  
  
"If you don't like the job, quit," Aya grumbled, turning to tend to the roses.  
  
I rolled my eyes, standing up.  
  
Believe me, Aya, I thought. If I could quit, then I would.  
  
There were a few conditions that God created for me that I had live by while on Earth. One, obviously enough, was that I had to sustain my job. Two, if I wanted to begin a relationship, I had to stay with it or begin a completely new one. Which basically meant that God didn't want me getting laid by a different girl every night. The second condition sucked. Three, I had to get along with my fellow coworkers, and pretty much every one else that came my way. Which, in itself, should've been pretty easy. The reason behind this is because God didn't make me a mortal.  
  
I was basically a demi-angel, to put it in simple terms. I had many of the powers that an angel does. I could help people, change people's lives for the better, get kittens out of trees easier than firemen could, yea know, just all the touchy-feely kinda stuff. I couldn't fly though. That really sucked.  
  
Anyway, so here I was, in Japan, working in a flower shop with three others guys and living in an apartment with them too. I forgot to mention that part, didn't I? I just sound more and more gay by the minute. There was a line of hopelessly-in-obsessive-love-with-me girls that wanted flowers. Many of them came twice or more a week. Not that I ever minded attention from them. I happen to like girls flocking toward me.  
  
Aya, as usual, was being Mr.Quiet-Grump while putting the flower arrangements together.  
  
"Hello," I said to a pretty, blonde girl with blue eyes and a decent sized chest. "Can I help you?"  
  
The girl nodded. "Of course!" she said in a perky voice, almost jumping up and down. "I need an arrangement of wild flowers."  
  
"Wild flowers?" I asked, just to be sure that I didn't completely ruin the girl's order. She was, afterall, pretty cute.  
  
She nodded happily.  
  
"Wild flowers, Aya!" I shouted back to a glaring Aya.  
  
More orders came, and more arrangements had to be made. My job, of course, was easy that day. I got to stand there, shout back at Aya what to make and check out hot girls. So maybe the job wasn't so bad afterall.   
  
Sadly enough, the end of the day came quickly, and we went up to the apartment to relax. That is if you can call Ken's cooking relaxing, anyway.  
  
Along with working in a flower-shop all day, each of us also had to make dinner on a rotating schedule. I personally dread the nights when Ken cooks.  
  
Yea see, Ken's a pretty nice guy. He sticks with one girl, he likes kids, he plays soccer. All in all, he's a pretty nice guy; however, the touch of good cooking never reached him. He normally cooks something instant, or something that doesn't take too much knowledge to prepare. Like, oh let's say ramen. All that you have to do is boil some water, throw the noodles in for a few minutes, then add the seasonings. Ken can actually mess up this up. Sometimes, I really do worry.   
  
"It's your turn to set the table, Youji-kun," Omi, the seventeen year old God of Innocence, said cheerfully, glancing into the pot which held Ken's cooking.  
  
When I say that Omi is the God of Innocence, it's not an exaggeration. Silky, light brown hair. Big, blue chibi eyes that make anyone do anything for the boy. As far as I know, he's never even slept with a girl. That really is a shame, seeing as he has so much potential. Girls can be heard screaming his name at the flower shop; however, they *do* scream *all* of our names. Omi just has this sweet, almost genki, nature about him. Even if it does get a bit scary sometimes, at least he can cook well enough.  
  
I reluctantly set the table by orders of Omi.  
  
"What is that supposed to be, Ken-kun?" Omi asked gently, seemingly cringing at the contents of the pot.  
  
Ken blinked at him. "Ramen."  
  
Except for Ken, everyone else in the room cringed.  
  
So, there I was: sitting at the table, awaiting my burned ramen. I hadn't had a date since I'd died. I was practically dying from sexual starvation. The only thing I could think was, "Wow.God must really hate me."  
  
~tbc~  
  
Please review and make me happy, dammit! ^_~ 


End file.
